And here goes your housewarming gift !What These Old Eyes Saw
As geetanjali pulled me away to an another faraway table, I turn my head to look back at them once more.I sat on a semi dark corner of the room where i could watch them without making it apparent. Rudra Pratap Ranawat, my bright shining,dedicated boy, whom I have known for the last 10 years,saw him grow from an uncertain raw recruit to a deadly confident major and his sweet innocent wife Parvati, once his prime suspect and witness of that nightmarish mission at LOC. I saw him walk to her ,urging her to drink that water and clear her head.She shook her head in denial,the chandelier earrings that I once gifted geetanjali swang to and fro throwing soft winking starlights to those eyes that watched her through amber orb ,soft and alight. Ah ! young people , without of the knowledge of their own hearts ! they both sat down huddled, oblivious to the world around them as I took a long lazy sip from the goblet and watched them losing themselves to each other's charm.
She laughed and pointed at something, his eyes danced with hers in those graceful steps that he displayed not too long before in the dance floor. She giggled again melodiously and he frowned at her in mock anger. There was no doubt that they were in tune of a beautiful music only they could hear and my old experienced sense could only guess.His lips seemed to kiss her delicate earlobes as he whispered something in her ear, making her look into his eyes expectantly.
They went on bantering, murmurings things back and forth to each other interrupted only once when rudra went to fetch a decanter. Their tenderness with each other had something which made older people reminisce their halcyon days of youth and younger restore their faith in love.I keenly observed them from my table for no other reason then sheer amazement. How could these two young people know how to love each other with such deep love ? And how could they themselves not be aware of such powerful emotions they held for each other ? What hindered them from acknowledging that ultimate truth they shone so brilliantly from their eyes...what obligations ? what obstacles ? It was visible through smallest gestures, smallest of words whispered in softest of voices,the mild caresses given in stolen moments.
They didnt stay long. as the rooms got deserted with the guests leaving wishing us goodnight and murmuring thanks for including them on our celebration, they got up and walked to the door. before stepping out rudra turned towards me,saluted and then reclined his head asking permission to leave. I nodded and he stepped out opening the door for her. She stumbled and he immediately encircled her with his arms protectively around her waist, his eyes smiling fondly.
After a long long time, I had the urge to write something, a poem...a shortstory...anything to record what I saw, what i felt,what i wished. Geetanjali always lamented that I had become too hardcore a war veteran to have my early value and respect for human emotions intact and that is why I had stopped writing . How could I possibly make her believe that what i was lacking was not faith in humanity and love but a suitable subject to write upon, to have the muse strike me with ideas ? tonight I will surprise her with a poem. Of young love overwhelming yet frightened to declare.
I had already the beginning in my head as I headed fast to our room to grab my notebook :
'' the warmth that rose like a vapour of an early summer afternoon...
Edited by shreya_rc - 11 years ago